Jim's Dragon
by bundysbaby
Summary: A birthday present for a friend who loves J/T! Jim and Trixie are preparing for their special day in a few weeks when strange happenin's bedevil Jim.


"You know, babe, I don't know why this lake doesn't have a name." Jim Frayne and Trixie Belden lounged on the dock after a few vigorous hours of swim and play.

Trixie shrugged, enjoying the summer sun on her bikini-clad body. "I don't know, Jim. It was always just The Lake, even when your family didn't live here. It doesn't even have a name on maps."

"I noticed. It's just weird. Do you think we should name it?" He turned to face her, running a long finger along the soft skin of her arm.

And thanked Heaven for bikinis.

Trixie grinned at her boyfriend of two years. "I don't think anyone would use the name, even if we could come up with a good one. Wheeler's Lake is just so boring, and so is Manor House Lake."

"How about Mystery Lake in honor of the mysteries you and my sister keep dragging the rest of us into?"

"Ewww, no. That name makes it sound as if the lake is a brew of toxic chemicals or something. And Honey and I don't drag the rest of you into mysteries. You're all willing participants!"

"Says you!" He chucked her under her chin and laughed. Jim knew exactly what buttons to push and what the outcome would entail.

"You are, James!" She sat up, outraged. "You secretly enjoy all intrigue and danger, Mister Frayne!" she exclaimed.

No, he thought. I enjoy seeing you in a barely-there bikini, Trix, just quivering with indignation. He didn't voice the thought. He was smarter than that. Instead, he reached up and pulled her back down on top of him. "I enjoy you, babe," he breathed out, covering her mouth with his and cutting off her response.

Her lips softened at his expert assault, allowing the couple to engage in a passionate make-out session. Temperatures escalated as hormones began to rage, demanding more than just deep kisses and soft caresses. When Trixie felt Jim's large, capable hands begin to slide the bottom of her swimsuit over her hips, she knew they had to halt.

She broke the kiss and placed her small hand over his. "Jim," she rasped. "We're in public, and we need to stop, babe."

"God, Trix." His voice rumbled with frustrated passion. "It's a good thing one of us has some sense." Jim felt the loss of her warmth as she slid to one side, both of them breathing heavily.

"It's always dangerous when we're alone," she agreed. She was achy in places that only he could soothe.

"I can't wait until the end of August, baby. You'll finally be with me forever." The past couple of years without her were so lonely. Now that she was coming up to Boston and moving in with him as Trixie Frayne, his life was going to get so much better.

She idly traced a design on his arm, connecting the freckles that bloomed there in the summer. "The wedding is never going to get here, Jim," she complained.

"Two more weeks, Trix, then St. Bart's for a week and up to Boston."

"Finally, sweetie." She stopped tracing the freckles and began to giggle. "Jim? Do you know if you connect the freckles on your arm, they're in the shape of a dragon?"

He rolled his eyes. "Only you, Trix. I never thought about it."

"No, really."

"You have the most active imagination…"

"I'll prove it!" She rummaged around in the tote she brought from home. "I always carry a pen and paper… voila!" She held up the pen as if she was Rafiki and it was Simba. "Watch this."

Jim did watch, trying not to laugh, as Trixie connected the spots. His laughter turned to incredulity as the dot-to-dot drawing took on the distinctive shape of a dragon, wings and all. "See? I told you."

Jim held up his arm to inspect the drawing. "It does look like a dragon, Trix." As they admired her handiwork, a stray ray of illuminated it, almost making it flash.

"Maybe you should get a tattoo, Jim," Trixie teased.

"Uh, I don't think so, babe. It is pretty cool, though. We need to get back, though, for the Bob-White barbecue up at Manor House."

As they bent to gather their things, neither one noticed the bright flash of light deep in the preserve or the distinct scent of ozone that accompanied it.

8888888888

The picnic at Manor House was everything a Bob-White get together should be. Raucous laughter, pranks, and the best food ever. Trixie and Jim were teased unmercifully about their upcoming nuptials, but to the others' surprise, neither one rose to the bait. They each had a secret smirk that kind of took the wind out of everyone's sails.

"What's that on your arm, Frayne?" Now that they were sated, Dan finally noticed Trixie's experiment. "It almost looks like a dragon. What did you do, visit a tattoo parlor in town without the rest of us? And let me tell you, whoever did it, they need to practice their art a lot more."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Mangan, do you actually think we need to go for group tattoos? Besides, it's not a tattoo. Trixie and I were swimming earlier when she decided to connect the dots. This is what I ended up with, so you can blame her."

The rest of the Bob-Whites gathered around to admire Trixie's impromptu artwork. "It really does look like a dragon, Jim. Not a well-drawn dragon, like my Diana could do, but passable."

"However did you think of that, Trix?" Brian asked. Trust Trixie to come up with something wildly imaginative instead of a more prosaic word or picture of a cloud.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "We were drying off on the dock, and it just occurred to me." In fact, now that she thought about it, it almost seemed like her hand was guided. But of course, that was pure speculation and hindsight is always 20/20.

"What I think is it's just perfectly perfect," Honey loyally added. "Are you going to get a tattoo, Jim?"

"Nope. Unfortunately, my fiancée here decided to connect my freckles with a Sharpie. It's a good thing it's still a couple of weeks until the wedding. I'd hate to take photographs with Emberwing here in full view."

"You named your dragon?" Di collapsed in giggles. "What, you've only had it for a couple of hours!"

Jim just smiled and let them tease him. But where had that name come from? It was like he was used to saying it. But that was just silly. There were no such things as dragons unless you counted those of the Komodo kind.

88888888888

A few hours later, after kissing Trixie senseless before she headed off down the path back to Crabapple Farm with her brothers, Jim stumbled wearily into bed. It had been a long day, even though it was full of fun and alone time with his girl. Before he turned off the light, he looked again at Emberwing. He had begun to think of the nonsensical cartoon dragon that Trixie drew on his arm by name.

He tried to scrub a little of the not-too-ferocious dragon off, but the black Sharpie was stubbornly resistant to his Irish Spring. Maybe tomorrow. Just too tired tonight.

He slid into his bed, rubbing at his arm. It felt not precisely itchy, but as if something was there. He hoped he wasn't going to have an allergic reaction and fell promptly to sleep.

8888888888

"Jim? Hey, Jim? Jim?" A deep rumble of a voice shook him awake from a sound sleep. Shook him awake? Were they having a rare earthquake or something?

"Jim! Your window."

He stumbled out of bed and opened the plantation shutters and yelled. Screamed might be a better word, but it didn't have the manly connotation.

A huge golden eye was staring in at him. Its pupil was black and vertical, like a cat's eye. For a moment, Jim wondered if Godzilla came to Sleepyside. That eye rolled in almost human exasperation. "Geez, Jim. It's me. Emberwing. Your dragon."

Jim pressed his fingers against his eyes. Yup. It was a dream. Had to be. He blinked a few times to clear the mist, but that great golden orb was still there. He glanced at his arm, the place where Trixie connected his freckles.

Trixie's rudimentary art was replaced by a lavish rendition of a ferocious, golden dragon. "Come out and talk to me," the voice rumbled, shaking Jim's window.

"Wait there. I need to get dressed." Oh God. He was getting married in two weeks. It was not a good time for him to develop insanity.

Jim threw on a pair of shorts, flip-flops, and a Yankees t-shirt before practically running down the stairs and into the side yard. His headlong dash was halted by the giant creature idling there.

It was a dragon.

A big dragon, with long claws, an enormous skull with the sharpest of teeth and those eyes of molten gold. It was covered in golden scales, and a line of deep red spines marched from its head to the end of its long tail. It had its wings folded, but Jim could just about discern the scarlet underwing.

Emberwing. Wings of fire.

"So, what do you want to do today? Smite your enemies? Storm the castle? Rescue a fair maiden?" If it were possible for a dragon to look eager, Emberwing would win the competition.

Jim's legs gave way, and he just sank to the ground. "Yup. Totally bonkers."

"Where are your shield and sword? We can't go into battle with you half-dressed," Emberwing snorted out, little puffs of smoke coming from his nostrils.

"Why are you here?"

"You called me, Jim."

"I called you? I didn't…"

"The marking on your arm. It is the way your family has called the dragons for hundreds of years when we are needed. Once the freckles are connected, we come. So, what's the mission?"

"Mission?" Jim repeated.

Emberwing huffed out another, smoke-filled snort. "Are you daft, Jim? I say, let's storm the castle! That's always a good one."

"Look around you, Emberwing. This isn't Europe or China. It's the United States, and we don't have castles. Well, mostly we don't. We don't go around smiting our enemies with dragon fire. Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook do very well at that. And there are no maidens to save. I'm getting married in two weeks. We saved each other, to paraphrase a popular movie."

Emberwing's big head dropped to the ground, making a loud thud and shaking the earth. "No enemies? No castles? No fair maidens to be saved? Why did you call me then?"

"I didn't. Not intentionally. My girlfriend Trixie drew you on my arm when she noticed that my freckles, when connected, made a dragon. Sorry."

"Sorry? That's all you can say? I waited hundreds of years for this call! You mean I'm not even going to get to set the village on fire with my flaming breath?"

Jim waved a hand in front of his freckled face. "You can set the village on fire with that _regular_ breath."

"What did you say?" Emberwing demanded, hurt.

"I said you can't set the village on fire with that breath."

"This really sucks. Seriously. What am I going to do now? Maybe we can just fly around and terrorize the countryside?" Emberwing asked, a hopeful note in his deep, rumbly voice.

"The government will just shoot you down."

"Man, there's just no magic in this century. Pity." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "I guess I should get back."

Jim stood there, waiting for Emberwing to poof away, but nothing happened. He waited some more, and still nothing happened. "Well?"

"I was just going to ask you," Emberwing snarked. "I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for your wizard to come and perform the spell to send me back." If he could have, Emberwing would have said _'duh!'_

"I don't have a wizard," Jim replied slowly. What next?

"What do you mean you don't have a wizard? Everybody has a wizard!"

"Well, I don't! Emberwing, there are no wizards to be had. Not now."

Emberwing gave a great big sigh, crisping the English Garden that was Jim's mother's pride and joy. "Sorry about that. As I said, there's no magic in this century."

"Is there another way you can get back?" Jim was desperate now. Next thing you know, Emberwing would want to be the ring bearer at his wedding and the guests would end up looking like when his mother tried to make toast.

The shining scales glowed as the sun hit him, nearly blinding Jim in the process. Emberwing cocked his massive head to one side. "There may be one other way," he said, thinking out loud. "Although I don't think it's ever been used. Everybody had a wizard in the old days," the dragon said, scornful.

Jim pictured having Emberwing follow him everywhere. Unless the method were to sacrifice a virgin into a volcano (because where would he get a virgin these days) he'd try his damnedest to get Emberwing wherever he had to go. Dragon Limbo, he supposed. "Well, what is it?"

"You're not going to like it."

"If it helps you to get back to your world or whatever, I'll do it."

"You have to get your girlfriend – Trixie, I think you said her name was – to the place where I hatched in the woods. You'll know how to get there because I won't fly, I'll walk through to my hatching place, and that should leave a fairly large trail. You'll need to bring some salt, enough to make a large circle around me. And a raw egg from a chicken. You and Trixie will have to say the words that I give her and then you will have to smash the egg underfoot."

Jim eyed the dragon with no small amount of suspicion. "This isn't going to be one of those things where you have to chow down on her or anything, is it?"

Emberwing rolled his eyes as his forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth in the approximation of licking nonexistent lips. "Don't be stupid. Those are the red dragons."

"Okay. I hope I can talk Trixie into this. She's liable to think I'm totally crazy."

"I'll meet you there at five minutes before midnight." Emberwing closed his eyes and shook his head, knocking down that pretty Japanese cherry tree. "Sorry about that. If you only had a wizard, we would have gotten this over in a few minutes."

The massive creature turned slowly and began to lumber through the preserve. He wasn't kidding when he said he was going to make a trail that would be easy to follow, Jim thought. Emberwing certainly left the massive path of destruction in his wake.

88888888888888

Jim went back to his room, showered, dressed, and went downstairs into the kitchen. There was an enormous walk-in pantry off to one side. Bring salt, Emberwing said, so he rummaged through the shelves.

"There are several different kinds of salt here. Who knew?" Jim stared at the table staple. Morton's with that little girl under an umbrella. Kosher. Himalayan Pink Salt. Sea Salt. Fleur de Mer. What the hell kind did he need?

And how was he going to explain what happened to Mother's garden?

He sighed and took the Morton's salt, figuring that the simpler, the better. He took out his cell phone and called his special girl, hoping she wouldn't have him committed.

"Hi, handsome!" Her chirpy voice came over the phone.

"Hi, beautiful! What's on tap for today?"

"We have our final fitting before the wedding, babe. The girls, Moms and me are going to lunch in White Plains, do a little pre-wedding shopping and then I'm all yours. I wish your parents were here, then Mrs. Wheeler could come with us." The Wheelers were in Australia and wouldn't be home until the middle of the week.

"You're going to have to decide what to call my parents, baby."

Trixie giggled on the other end of the phone. "I know. But somehow Mother and Dad just don't seem right."

"Matt and Maddie."

"You don't call my parents that."

"Mostly because their names are Helen and Peter. I do call Moms Moms. Your Dad and I settled on Peter."

"We'll see. So, how about we meet around seven at Wimpy's? Just the two of us? The rest of the time we're going to be busy with all the wedding stuff."

"Okay, and I have a surprise for you at midnight." Boy, do I have a surprise.

"I love surprises!"

"I know this is going to sound strange, but do you have any Morton's salt?"

888888888888888

Later that morning, at the aptly named Cinderella Bridal Boutique, Honey, Diana, and Trixie's mother Helen became teary-eyed at the vision before them. "You look lovely, baby," Helen sniffed.

"You're gonna knock my brother right out of his tux," Honey added. Where did the brash tomboy go? The woman in front of them was a sexy fairy princess.

"Jim is going to want to take you to the private bridal suite at the Club before he even gets to the reception," Di laughed, then covered her mouth. "Sorry, Mrs. Belden!"

Trixie was wearing a deceptively simple Monique Lhuillier slip gown. It had spaghetti straps with a lower cut bodice. The gown skimmed her waist and hips. It was modest to a degree… as the lovely appliques traveled down the dress, it became sheerer until Trixie's toned legs were visible through the material.

Trixie glanced at herself, satisfied. It was sexy, yet not blatantly in your face. Plus, Jim would have fun with the lingerie underneath it all. "I like it," she smiled, although she doubted she'd be wearing it long after they left the reception.

"Are you seeing him today?" Helen asked.

"Yes, he has me going on a midnight adventure with him. So excited!" Trixie squealed.

888888888888888

With flashlights, egg, and salt in hand, Jim took Trixie up to the side of Manor House. The side where Emberwing had caused unwitting destruction. Jim was rather surprised that no one at home noticed it, but then again everyone was busy, and the gardeners weren't expected for another day or so.

"Gleeps, Jim, whatever happened here? It looks like a tornado cut a path through here."

"Trixie, you'll never believe me if I explain. So, I'm going to show you."

"You're being very mysterious, Jim."

"Baby, you have no idea." The two picked their way along the broken branches, toppled trees, and crushed underbrush that signified Emberwing's amble through the preserve. Trixie was taken aback by the amount of destruction and kept up a stream of chatter.

"It had to be some sort of weather event, Jim. I've never seen anything like this. I'm surprised it didn't pull the roof off of Manor House."

Jim didn't really answer. What was he going to say to his fiancée? Gee, Trixie, the dragon you drew on my arm came to life and is kind of pissed that we don't have any enemies to slay. She'd have him admitted to Bellevue in an instant. Besides, he had to keep an eagle eye out so they didn't trip on any of the broken vegetation.

After ten or fifteen minutes, they finally made it to the clearing. As they stepped out from the trees, Trixie gasped. "Oh my God, Jim. Is that what I think it is?" She stopped short, and Jim ran into her.

The moon and the beams from their flashlight played over the golden scales of the beautiful dragon. Emberwing heard them enter his space and opened his great topaz eyes. "You're cutting it close, Jim."

Trixie's blue eyes were as large and round as saucers. "It talks! Jim, it's a dragon!"

"Well, of course, I speak! And, if anything, you're the one responsible for me being here." Emberwing was seriously aggravated. All the way here, hatching out of that stupid travel egg, and all for nothing. "If it wasn't for you were connecting Jim's freckles, I'd be back at home, relaxing."

"Jim?"

Jim's voice was weary as he explained. "Apparently, the freckles on my forearm, once connected into the form of a dragon act as a sort of call and conduit. Emberwing here was expecting knights in shining armor, fair maidens, and a whole host of enemies to smite. Instead, he got me." Jim shrugged his shoulders. "We need to send him back to wherever he came from, and since we don't have any wizards handy, we have to do it."

"And we're wasting time. Jim, you start here and Trixie you start there. Sprinkle your salt in a circle all around me. As you are doing so, you may say the magic words. When you meet, drop the egg and step on it."

"Not abracadabra," Trixie snarked back.

"No, that's old school. Repeat after me. Dragon fire and dragon fly, dragon fight or dragon roam, at the end of every day, every dragon needs a place to stay. The magic words are in this poem; when the circle is complete, send Emberwing home."

"Kind of hokey isn't it?" Jim was tired and cranky and just wanted to get this whole ordeal over with.

"Hey, I don't write 'em. You guys better get going. I'll curl my tail closer to my body so you won't have as far to walk."

Feeling kind of foolish, Jim and Trixie began to sprinkle their salt on the ground, chanting the words that Emberwing supplied. Almost at the stroke of midnight, they met, spreading the rest of their salt on the rather imperfect circle they had created. Trixie threw the egg on the ground and Jim crushed it with his size 14s.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe it's because we're standing in the circle, Jim."

"And maybe it's because it was a stupid rhyme," Jim whispered back. Even so, they stepped out of the circle and back to Emberwing's large head. "So what happens now? You have to wait for the mothership or something?"

"It didn't work. I guess we're going to have to go to Plan B."

"Plan B? What's Plan B? You didn't tell me anything about a Plan B." Geez, maybe Plan B would have been the one that worked.

Emberwing lifted his mighty head and spread out his wings. "You're not going to like Plan B, Jim. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"Come to what?"

"Well, Jim, Trixie. We have to go real old school on this. Human sacrifice. _Female_ human sacrifice. And since you're the only human female around, Trixie, I guess it has to be you." With his speed belying his size, Emberwing pushed Trixie with his snout. To his surprise, she grabbed onto the edge of one of his nostrils.

"She's a feisty one Jim, I'll give you that."

"Take me instead, Emberwing. Let her go. Trixie!"

"Sorry, Jim. This isn't Puff the Magic Dragon. Not going to go to the land of Hona Lee quietly."

Emberwing flipped his head, jarring Trixie and sending her high into the air. It seemed like forever as she fell back to earth, towards Emberwing's open mouth with its huge pointy teeth.

Trixie was screaming, and Jim was screaming her name as she plummeted towards her death. "Trixie! Trixie! TRIIIXXXXIIEEEEEEEEE…"

88888888888

"Jim? James. Wake up, babe. You're having a nightmare. Boy, it must've been something, I think they heard you up at Manor House." They were both drowsing on the dock at the Lake and fell asleep. Jim startled her awake by screaming her name several times.

He opened up his eyes to see her staring down at him, concern reflected in those sapphire eyes that haunted his dreams. "Trixie. Baby. Oh my God, you are safe!" Jim wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against him.

"Wow, that must've been some dream!" She could feel him shaking.

"I don't even want to discuss it. I can't wait till this wedding is over. All this running around is making me crazy." His voice was muffled as he buried his face in her golden curls.

"I know what you mean. I still wish we just would've eloped or had a small wedding at Crabapple Farm. This has turned into a circus. You're exhausted, I'm exhausted."

His heart rate was starting to slow as the side effects of the dream were slowly dissipating. Instead, making a rapid recovery, his body was awakening to the fact he had a barely clad, string bikinied Trixie pressed right up against him.

"Yum. You're so nice and warm and soft, baby." His hands were beginning to roam as he pressed butterfly kisses to her neck.

"And yet you are making me hot, Mr. Frayne." Passions began to rise as they engaged in a sorely needed make-out session. They hadn't had much alone time lately, and it didn't take much to set off raging desire.

Jim flipped Trixie underneath him, kissing her again and again until they were both breathless. When Jim's soft caresses turned to fiddling with the string on the bottom to her bikini, Trixie placed her slender hand over his. "We have to stop, Jim. We're in a public place."

"You're right, baby. I'm glad one of us has some sense, even if it leaves me feeling very, very frustrated." He rolled off her and onto his back, staring up at the blue, cloudless sky.

"You're not the only one that is frustrated, Studly."

Jim began to feel an odd sense of déjà vu. He tried to dismiss it; he and Trixie had engaged in steamy make-out sessions at the lake many times. But he couldn't shake it.

Trixie went up on her side, facing him, her head resting on one elbow while her fingers traced a design on his forearm. "Hey, you know what? If you connect the freckles on your arm, they make a dragon! That's so cool!"

Trixie never knew why Jim turned stark white, jumped up, grabbed all their things and hustled them back to Manor House.

And only Jim knew why his arm only gave the merest of tingles that night.


End file.
